


Love is...

by Angel_made_of_scars



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel POV, Diary Style, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 15:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7690366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_made_of_scars/pseuds/Angel_made_of_scars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is... What? A word? A feeling? No, more then that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is...

Love is when I get too stressed. It's all too much. The world twists, threatening to strangle me completely, and then he's there. Asking me what's wrong. And there's suddenly not a word in the whole of the English language to describe how ok I am. Because he's back.

Love is safety. It's feeling the knife at your throat disappear, as you hear a gunshot from behind. It's knowing who's gun went off. It's desperate kisses, his hands on my waist, and my face, and then- dropping. He almost lost me. I almost lost you too, Dean.

Love is relaxation. It's night sleeping together, holding each other, and night grasping at each other's bodies. It's days spent laying on the couch, and throwing popcorn at each other over a movie, because you still have time in your life to do such things.

Love is fighting, glorious, needy fighting. It's screams and dismantled, broken objects thrown, it's hatred- but not really. It's stomping feet and raised voices and absolute certainty that it's the end. Until it's not.

Love is mistakes. Love is confessions and forgiveness. It's "I love you too", and sweeping up the shards of the coffee mug that was shattered. It's his eyes when they look into mine, knowing we both were at fault, and saying as much.

Love is contact. It's holding hands in the supermarket and knowing there are angry glares pointed your way. It's his hand dropping. It's his hand flipping someone off, before returning to my grip. It's my smile.

Love is trust. Duck. Gunshot. It could have been his head, but he knew I wouldn't shoot until he was down. It's him spinning us and facing me towards the enemy. And I close my eyes. A hatchet thrown, balanced off my shoulder. It's knowing it will never slice me.

Love is Deans hands carding through my hair. It's his eyes. It's his breath against my cheek before he kisses me there. It's my smile, and his dirty laundry, and our fights, and his courage, and our trust, and my mistakes.

Love is everything I've ever wanted. Love is everything I never knew I could have.


End file.
